


Five Times Break Wasn’t Caught Napping

by richterimberg



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21570457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richterimberg/pseuds/richterimberg
Summary: And one time he let his guard down and really did fall asleep.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Five Times Break Wasn’t Caught Napping

I

Early morning in the Rainsworth household. The sun was rising, the birds were chirping, and one little girl was creeping down the hall towards an otherwise innocuous door.

She tiptoed up to it, careful not to make noise lest she disturb the occupant within, and very slowly turned the doorknob.

The door made a soft whine when it swung inward, and she panicked momentarily, glancing furtively over her shoulders to make sure there was no one around. Her solitude thus confirmed, she slid through the crack in the doorway into the darkened room within.

There wasn’t much to speak of - just a bed, a nighttable, and a chair by the window. The curtains were open just enough for a crack of light to spill over the still form of the occupant of the bed.

Sharon took in the way the blankets rose and fell under his gentle breaths, how even though he was a grown-up he seemed small and frail under the covers, the mess of long white hair fanning out over the pillows, and most importantly the swath of bandages covering almost half of his face.

She was oh so very careful to not breathe too loud or step too carelessly as she took slow steps towards his bedside. The adults had shooed her and Reim out of the room when they’d found him bloodied and prone on the floor yesterday, and hadn’t told her a thing about what was going on. So, vexed by this, Sharon had resolved to investigate herself.

But when she had almost reached the edge of the bed-

“What do you want?”

Sharon jumped instinctively at the hoarse voice. The stranger’s one red eye was open, staring straight at her. Not with any real intensity - the dark circles and listless droop of his eyelid betrayed how tired he really was.

“S-sorry! I, um,” Sharon blurted thoughtlessly. “Did I wake you up?”

The stranger blinked slowly. “...No,” he said finally. “Why are you in here, kid?”

“Well... I...” Sharon fidgeted, unsure. He may have been weak, but there was something about this man that intimidated her. “What’s your name?”

He looked away. He frowned, as if the question upset him. Sharon couldn’t imagine it was that hard to answer, though. It was supposed to be something to call you by, after all.

“...Ask me tomorrow,” he finally said, rolling to his side away from her. A clear dismissal, if she ever saw one.

She eyed him for a moment, waiting to see if he’d change his mind on his own. When he didn’t move, Sharon tip toed around the bed and leaned in towards him. “Why?”

The stranger’s eye, which he had scrunched shut, flipped open again as he scowled at her. “Just please go away.” He turned over to his other side - or tried to, at least. Sharon heard a hiss as he landed on his injured face a bit too harshly. The stranger gingerly ran a hand over the place where his left eye should be, remaining eye screwed up against the pain and lips pulled back in a grimace.

When Sharon came around to the other side of the bed again, more tentative this time, he looked at her and sighed, curling into himself a bit. “If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

Truthfully, there were a lot of questions she wanted to ask him. What happened to his face, for starters. But her mother had told her yesterday that this man was tired and needed to rest, and she was starting to understand why, so she decided she’d have to settle for this for now. She nodded at him, eyes blinking curiously.

The stranger seemed to hesitate again, lone eye darting around the room. It was a minute before he muttered a quiet, “...It’s Xerxes Break. Now leave me be. Please.”

Sharon nodded again, in satisfaction this time, and puffed out her chest just a little. Her perseverance had paid off, in the end. “Well! Thank you.” 

She turned and padded back to the still-ajar door. But she paused with her hand on it, looking back at Xerxes Break, whose eye was again closed, although she was pretty sure he was still awake. Eyes on this pale shadow of a man, she didn’t feel as nervous now that she had talked to him, even though it had been maybe 5 minutes and most of what he had said had been telling her to go away. He didn’t seem frightening now, only deeply miserable and lonely.

Sharon felt something odd, then, that she couldn’t quite explain, but it felt a lot like this stranger was someone she was going to become very fond of.

And so.

“Good night, then, Xerx-nii!”

Break’s eye flew open, and he gaped at her. Stuggling to prop himself up on one elbow, completely failing to mask a wince, he could only manage a “W-W-Wh-Huh?” as his mouth flapped open. Sharon giggled at his obvious shock, but quickly slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her. She needed to get dressed and go have her breakfast before someone came looking for her out here.

Yes, she thought Break was going to be very fun.

II

Gilbert wandered through the park, scanning the area anxiously. In both hands was clutched a small scrap of paper, on which was written an invitation to meet up at a specific bench in this park that he hadn’t quite found yet. Gil checked this scrap periodically, almost hoping it would somehow spawn more clues than ‘over by the oak tree’. Jeez, if Break really wanted to see him, he could at least bother to write something a little more helpful for Gil to go on.

It was an overcast, kind of chilly day for the season. The wind shuttered through the trees and the few people who had the will to venture out on such a gloomy day. Gil pulled his thin jacket closer around him, internally wondering why if the nobles had so much money, they didn’t spend it on sensible clothes like a warm woollen coat.

He wandered around the park for a while, still not knowing what he was really looking for. He wasn’t very familiar with different kinds of trees, but the ones he thought might be oak there were a lot of. But then, they might also be something else and he’d gotten the names mixed up or something. Maybe he should tell Break next time to make a map, or something.

...Nah, he’d probably just get made fun of again. God forbid Break be informative for a change. Hopefully there was a book on local flora or something in the Nightray library where he could brush up on his plant knowledge, just in case he pulled this sort of thing again.

Just when he was starting to get tired and sore and irritated, he spotted a white-haired figure on a bench, arms folded and head tilted back at an awkward angle as if he had been there taking a nap the entire time Gil had been trying to puzzle out where he was. There was a very large tree behind the bench that he assumed was an oak, and he noted the leaf shape (large, kind of squiggly) before turning his attention back to the snoozing Break.

As he made his way over, an idea struck him. And, well, maybe Gil wasn’t the type to play pranks on any other day. But his feet hurt and he was cold and more than a little mad at having to waste however long he’d been out here probably walking in circles because this jerk couldn’t be bothered to tell him where he was.

So Gil picked up a large, squiggly leaf from the ground and quietly approached the bench. He stepped as silently as he could with these uncomfortable shoes on a dirt path and fallen foliage, but his feet still gave a soft crunch as he laid them down. Oh well. 

When he was finally close enough to strike, he held his breath and ever so carefully held the leaf over Break’s still sleeping face. Slowly, agonizingly so, he began to lower it-

“Boo!”

“Aah!!”

Gil jumped a good three feet away from Break, who was as it turned out awake and also in stitches over the look on Gil’s face. Peals of laughter cut through the cold air as he doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“Ahahahaheeheehee... Ehehehoho... Oh... Oh, Gilbert-kun, that was too good,” Break said, wiping a tear from his eye as his chuckles subsided. “You’re so fun to scare, so trusting...”

“W-What’s with you?!” Gil stuttered, turning bright red as he tried (and spectacularly failed) to regain his composure. “Were you really just pretending to be asleep this whole time as a joke? What’s with that, Break?”

Break waved a gloved finger in his face. “First rule of being a spy is to never let your guard down, and never trust anyone. You’re not doing so well thus far, I must say.” Gill batted away the finger in irritation. “What were you going to do with that leaf, anyway?”

“I was just going to put it on your face,” Gil pouted. “And maybe if I got it to stay I would have put a whole bunch on.”

Break laughed again. “A classic prank. Simple, but entertaining enough in a pinch. I’m fond of that one as well,” he admitted. “But you’re years away from pulling one over on me, Gilbert-kun.”

Gil huffed, looking away. “Yeah, well, maybe you should do better with your directions and I won’t put leaves on you,” he retorted. “I’ve been looking for you for ages!”

“So prickly! For a kid, you’re no fun at all,” Break sighed with a theatrical shrug and a shake of his head. “A scavenger hunt is good for the soul, didn’t you know?”

Gil grumbled something to himself about how clowns should stay in the circus where they belong, but it came out as more of a series of grunts than anything comprehensible. Break raised an eyebrow at his fuming, lips quirking in a grin, but said nothing. For a change.

Finally, Gil said, “Well, whatever. What did you need me for?”

Break’s smile stretched into something sinister. “I’m so glad you asked,” he said, patting the seat of the bench. “Come, sit. We must discuss your findings, my dear little spy.”

III

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Kill the chain and capture the contractor. It was really the only reason Reim had been allowed out in the field with so little backup, even though they were shorthanded as it was back at Pandora.

But he was running out of ammo, and Break, darting around the Chain with sword in hand, appeared to be running out of patience. Their plan - use Reim and his gun as bait, then let Break take care of the rest - hadn’t worked. The Chain had been much faster than the reports had indicated, and even with Break’s expert swordsmanship, it had him on his toes. With the way it flashed around the street, Reim had been hard-pressed to find his mark, with most of his bullets whizzing harmlessly into the buildings beyond. It was like a dangerous game of tag, with swords, and bullets, and death.

Skidding on the paved stones, Break growled something in frustration. Reim couldn’t help but agree. They had people en route, but they were having a hard enough time keeping the Chain in one place as it was, let alone taking it out. At this rate, it could get away. There was no telling what an agitated contractor might do to preserve their own life.

Reim barely caught a shout of “Stand back!” from Break before a massive shadow appeared over them, cape billowing ominously. A black top hat appeared atop it, adorned in proclamations of love and peace, as a single bloodred eye slid open.

The Mad Hatter. If he was summoning it fully like this, then Break truly was getting impatient.

He rushed the Chain again, Mad Hatter’s power cloaking him like a cloud. The Chain again tried to dodge to one side, but a dark ray shot out from the Hatter and grazed it, causing it and its contractor to shriek in pain.

Break leapt gracefully, sword held aloft with the power of his Chain curling venomously around it. He brought the blade down on the Chain in one clean arc, neatly bisecting its body. It let out one final wail of despair as it sizzled off into the night.

The contractor, meanwhile, had collapsed into the street from his hiding place in the mouth of an alley. Reim dashed over to him, turning him over and pulling open his shirt. The seal over his heart, which had turned only twice around, was disappearing even as he watched. The man would live to see another day.

Reim was alerted then by a muffled choke and a sudden string of coughs from behind him, and turned quickly in confusion. 

Break was hunched over, back turned to him, wheezing into a handkerchief. The concerning sound of which was punctuated by a collection of harsh coughs.

“Xerx? What’s wrong?” Reim called, former contractor forgotten for the moment in order to focus on his evidently ailing friend. He was asleep and harmless now, anyway.

In a few moments, Break’s ragged breathing levelled out somewhat. He straightened up, wiping at his mouth and sighing.

“Ahh, what a pain...” Break muttered, not seeming to have heard him. 

The coughing fit being treated as an inconvenience struck Reim as suspicious at best.

“Xerx, have you caught something?” Reim tried again, approaching Break. “You shouldn’t be working if you’re sick.”

Break finally turned to him. He gave a soft smile, the one he seemed to reserve for lying.

“You needn’t worry, Reim-san. I’m just fine,” he replied.

Alright, now he really was concerned. If it was just a cold or bug or something, Break wouldn’t sound so... gently resigned about it. True, he might deny he had one anyway, but he usually looked more irritated than anything at having caught any sort of illness.

With all this in mind, Reim frowned. “You should see someone about that. Really, that doesn’t sound fine.” 

Suddenly, the handkerchief clutched at Break’s side caught his eye. For all he was trying to look nonchalant, his knuckles were white where they gripped the square of cloth.

And... there was something dark stained on it.

“Hey...” Reim said, looking slowly from the handkerchief to his mouth, on the corner of which was also a dark smudge.

Break’s calm smile failed slightly as his charade was detected. “I told you. Don’t worry about it,” he insisted, not meeting Reim’s eyes.

“Idiot,” Reim snapped. “Look at you. Choking up blood. That’s not normal, idiot, and you know it. Of course I’m going to worry.”

“Mhm.” Break, apparently having decided this conversation was now closed and dealt with, set off down the street past the backup they had requested earlier who were preparing to transport the former contractor back to Pandora. Reim hurried to catch up with him. No need to linger now that the situation was being handled.

He refused to answer any of Reim’s questions, instead humming to himself and talking to Emily about the weather. He continued this childish behaviour all the way back to the carriage they had come in, where Reim’s patience was quickly reaching its limit.

They both climbed in, and Break claimed a seat on the far side next to the window, leaned his head on the glass pane, and promptly began mock snoring loudly.

Reim rolled his eyes as he sat opposite him. Break might have passed the 30-year mark quite some time ago, but it seemed he would never really grow up in any way that mattered. Running around with pocketfuls of candy and a doll on his shoulder - an embarrassment to most who met him. Sometimes Reim felt like he was the old man and that snoring moron sitting with him was the young lad and not the other way around.

The carriage had been moving for a few minutes before Reim finished stewing in his thoughts and noticed that his companion had fallen silent. He raised an eyebrow at Break’s closed eye.

“How long?”

For a moment, Reim wondered if Break was genuinely asleep. But then he frowned ever so slightly, and Reim knew he was faking it.

“Xerx. Please. I just want to help,” he said softly.

Silence for a few moments more. “About half a year, now,” came the reluctant reply. Break still didn’t open his eye.

“Did you not... tell anyone? Do anything? This is a serious matter, not some common ailment you can just brush off,” Reim needled him.

“Yes, well... It’s a long story,” Break muttered, worrying his lip slightly. “But the evidence points to it being because my body is just too weak to handle a contract properly. So, there’s no helping it.”

This came as a shock to Reim. Normally, people contracted with Chains that they could handle, ones that suited them and their abilities, or just failed to hold one at all. Break had proven time and again that he could use his like an extension of his own body, so he doubted it was a matter of being ill-matched. But on the other hand, he supposed, there may as well be a first time for everything.

“Then, Xerxes, you have to promise me not to use your Chain more than truly necessary,” Reim insisted. “Stop being so reckless with yourself all the time.”

Break’s eye finally slid open a crack, just so Reim could see a sliver of crimson. “Of course, Reim-san.” He smiled that liar’s smile again.

“I mean it!” Reim said, scolding him like a mother would her child. “You need to take care of yourself. You’re my friend, idiot.”

Break chuckled. “Absolutely, Reim-san.”

Honestly, one of these days he was going to give Reim an ulcer from all his nonsense.

IV

Alice couldn’t sleep.

Tucked up in her bed in the Rainsworth mansion, she tossed and turned for a solid hour. Oh, it was a very comfortable bed, but even a Chain will have trouble their first night in an unfamiliar place. Or at least, a Chain like her, at any rate.

She huffed, flopping on her back and tracing the little imperfections on the ceiling above her with irritation. It was a total nuisance. There was nothing to do but wait. Everyone else was probably asleep by now, and here she was, bored and totally awake.

As she lay there, she realized that there was a growl in her stomach. Was she hungry? Maybe that was why she couldn’t fall asleep. She had eaten dinner, but... 

This wouldn’t do. How could she get some sort of snack? Alice didn’t know where the kitchen was, and it might take a long time to find. Time she didn’t actually want to spend. She wanted her snack as soon as possible.

As she chewed on this problem in her mind, something occurred to Alice. That clown might be a total creep, but he always had candy, right? And she had seen him go into what she assumed was his room earlier. True, she would much prefer meat, but she would just have to find the kitchen tomorrow. Sweets would do for now.

Plus, Alice wanted to see the look on his face when she stole all his snacks. It was making her grin just thinking about it.

Snickering to herself, she pushed back her covers and slid her feet into the slippers the servants had graciously provided for her. Two birds, one stone.

She crept out into the dark hallway. Luckily, the moon was just full enough that it wasn’t pitch black, but she still had to squint to see where she was going. Let’s see, if her room was here, then...

She followed the hallway around to where she thought Break’s room was, poking her head around corners to make doubly sure there was no one around. Secrecy was a must, if she wanted this to be perfect. But not even the servants were around at this time of night, so she needn’t have been concerned.

Tip toeing up to what she hoped was his room (fingers crossed!), she very very carefully turned the knob and pushed the door open, praying it wouldn’t creak. 

Alice had just poked her face through the crack, when a fork embedded itself in the doorframe two inches from her nose.

She just barely muffled a yelp as she drew her head away from the still vibrating piece of silverware, shielding herself from the assailant with the door.

“I can’t imagine what you’re doing in a gentleman’s room at this late hour, Alice-kun,” came Break’s voice from within.

So she was caught. Ah, well, maybe she could salvage this.

Alice cautiously peeked around the door, feeling like she may meet her end here and now at Pierrot’s sugar-coated hands. She put on as brave a face as she could manage, given the stick of metal stuck in the wood. “Well! You’ve caught me!” she said, forcing a laugh more boisterous than she actually felt.

Inside, she could see the silhouette of Break sitting cross-legged in the center of his bed. He was in his pyjamas, but was clearly wide awake, judging by the single lit candle on the nightstand. If she squinted, she could also make out what looked like a sucker stick dangling from his mouth.

“I’ll give you half credit for your efforts, but you were still sloppy. Next time I’d advise you to pick an easier target.” He lazily reached for his sucker. It emerged from his mouth with a pop. “Can I assist you in some way, or should I assume you’re just here to be a nuisance?”

“I’m glad you asked, clown!” she said, pointing at him authoritatively from behind her barrier. “I need a snack!”

Break tilted his head. “And you assumed I was going to be generous enough to give you something?”

“Well, I actually planned on stealing it while you were asleep,” Alice admitted. “But you’re going to give me something anyway, right?”

“Oh, please,” Break snorted, sticking his candy back into his mouth. “I have no reason to do as you ask. You’ve so rudely intruded into my space; I’m not about to reward you for it.”

Alice deflated somewhat. Shot down so quickly. But she couldn’t give up yet, of course. She absolutely needed something to eat, no matter what. She was going to get this snack or die trying.

“So, you won’t give me anything...” she said, closing her eyes thoughtfully for a few seconds. An idea striking her, they snapped open again, blazing with determination. “Then, I’ll just take it by force...!”

Alice shoved the door open, preparing to bolt to where there lay on the nighttable a couple of wrapped sweets. She’d barely moved a foot when a chewed-up sucker stick pelted her in the head.

“Ow! And, gross!” She rubbed the spot where it’d made contact in disgust. The thing was still wet. “Euuurgh, that’s revolting, you nasty old clown!”

“You’re terribly entitled, rabbit,” Break replied, hand still raised from throwing his garbage. He pointed at the door. “Out.”

Alice planted her feet. “I’m not leaving. I absolutely need a snack, and since I can’t find the kitchen, you need to give me something,” she insisted. Even in the face of getting hit with gross trash by this circus dropout, she remained resolute.

“I can sit here all night and throw things at you,” Break shrugged, crunching on his candy. He pulled the used stick out of his mouth and raised it in warning, taking aim. “It makes no real difference to me. I’ve got plenty of things here.”

Alice bristled, but stood her ground. “And I’ll be here until I get your snacks,” she shot back. “Guess you gotta give it up now, huh?”

He rolled his eye in an exaggeratedly agitated motion. “Oh, for the love of-“ There was a muffled grunt as Break reached into his pocket with his free hand. He flung something small at Alice.

She caught it reflexively before she actually checked her hand to see what it was. Belatedly, she realized that could have ended badly. But it was just a red sucker, neatly wrapped.

Ah, sweet victory.

“Take that and leave me in peace, brat.” Alice looked up to see a vaguely threatening smile on Break’s face.

She shot him a winning smirk in return, then spun on her heel and quickly slipped into the hallway before he changed his mind about throwing that stick.

Sauntering back towards her room, she unwrapped the sucker and popped it in her mouth. Cherry. Not bad, as far as candy went. It still wasn’t meat, but it would suffice.

Tonight, it had been the clown’s stash. Tomorrow, she’d make her way to the kitchen... Heh.

V

Oz wasn’t really surprised at tonight’s outcome, but he still heaved a sigh as he (carefully!) dumped a snoring and quite plastered Alice into her bed, tucking the sheets around her as best he could.

He knew he was a teenager, and that he was supposed to make poor life choices regarding liquor, but he felt more like an old man who’d long since tired of such raucous partying. It just seemed like he’d spent the night fussing over Alice and Gil, both of whom had not had the same reservations about how much or how fast they imbibed.

Looking wearily down at Alice’s peaceful form bundled in the blankets, though, he almost could see the appeal of losing yourself just for a little bit. Maybe Break had a point when he called Oz a weirdo, even if he was also a massive hypocrite for it.

Oz sighed softly and left the room, closing the door behind him. Now to go check on the other drunks.

When he arrived at the parlour, it was mostly how he’d left it. Oscar was still out cold on the floor, decorated appropriately with bows and drawings. Gil had wandered in from the balcony and was in a similar state on the chair, except with no graffiti. The empty wine bottles were still strewn haphazardly across the carpet, as were the cups with varying levels of alcohol remaining in them. There was the pillow thrown across the room, the dozen paper fans forgotten around the sofa, and... Oz blinked.

Sharon and Break had taken up residence on the couch, with Sharon’s head pillowed in Break’s lap on his bundled up coat. She was curled on her side and clearly asleep if the soft rise and fall of her chest was any indication. Break was slumped slightly, one hand draped protectively over her shoulder, the other dangling over the arm of the sofa.

As Oz entered the room proper, Break raised his head. His free hand came up to his mouth and pressed a finger to his lips.

“Shhh. She’s only just fallen asleep,” he said softly.

“Ahh...” Oz blinked at the scene. “Are you... planning to stay here for the night?”

“Mm, I don’t think so,” Break replied. “I was taking a moment to rest my eyes before taking my lady to her room.”

His gaze shifted to the sleeping girl in his lap. “She dragged me over here and demanded... something about a pillow, and that she was tired? I couldn’t tell exactly what the matter was through the slurring, but she calmed down when I sat with her,” he said by way of explanation. “Honestly, you children can’t hold your drink at all.”

Oz laughed sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess I’m the last one standing, huh?” he said, scratching his head. “I didn’t really plan it that way.”

Break appraised him with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, you seem to have been the only one of these people to decide to drink sensibly. I don’t know where you learned such a thing from, as it certainly wasn’t your uncle,” he replied, eyeing the snoring lump cuddling an empty bottle of merlot on the floor with distaste.

“Yeah, Uncle Oscar never does anything halfway,” Oz agreed. “This was my first time drinking with him, but I’m not really surprised this happened.”

“Oh, tell me about it,” Break rolled his eye. “Honestly, he has a great constitution, but he’s an absolute nightmare when we drink. One time he put away an entire bottle of whiskey in under an hour; it was terrible.” He waved his hand dismissively.

Oz folded his arms as he looked at each of the snoring people, all seeming like they had not a care in the world. He turned over a thought in his buzzed but still lucid mind. “They did look like they were having a great time though,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe another time I’ll give it a try and be more enthusiastic.”

Break laughed softly. “Oh, I would love to see a wasted Oz,” he said, sounding entirely too delighted. “You’re far too serious for your age; it might do you some good to unwind.”

“Yeah?” Oz laughed. “Says the guy who’s too hellbent on staying alive to relax for a second.”

Break shot him an exasperated look. “Believe me, I’d love to have some peace and quiet for a change. This is a terrible atmosphere for such things, though,” he sighed. “I must believe at this point that it’s just not in the cards, that sort of calm I’m looking for.”

Movement caught Oz’s eye just then, and he glanced down to see Sharon shifting in Break’s lap, murmuring something inaudible without seeming to wake. After a moment, she fell silent again.

Break blinked down at her, seeming to have forgotten she was asleep there. “Well, then.” He ever so carefully manoeuvred the sleeping Sharon into his arms, coat falling to the floor as he stood. “I suppose that’s that for tonight.”

He made to exit the room, but Oz called after him. “Can you help me get these two to bed as well?” he asked, gesturing at Gil and Oscar, both still dead to the world.

Break glanced from one man to the other, then back at Oz. “I think that if two grown adults manage to put themselves in this state, they can very well handle the consequences on their own, don’t you?” He gave Oz a final smile before he turned and left with his dozing mistress.

Oz stood there for a few moments, staring between Gil and Ocsar and wondering what his next course of action should be. 

After poking and prodding both of them with no response, and realizing he couldn’t even carry one of them back to their rooms, he threw in the towel and just went to bed.

Oh well. They’d be fine, his tipsy mind assured him as he drifted off.

+I

A beautiful day on the Rainsworth estate.

Probably, Break thought as he drained the last dregs of tea from his cup. He couldn’t really tell, but it seemed warm enough, he supposed. That should be enough to declare it beautiful, yes? Not that it really mattered one way or the other. He wasn’t likely to be questioned on whatever opinion he happened to land on.

On account of the allegedly fair weather, the table had been moved onto the veranda for afternoon tea. There was the gentlest of breezes, and songbirds could be heard out in the trees, chirping about whatever it is that birds found worthy of note, along with the faint rustling of leaves.

Yes, he supposed it was probably a nice day. He should enjoy it.

Sharon was there at the table with him, on her second cup if he had counted right. She usually was the one to take most of the pot of whatever had been prepared that day, while in contrast Break took the majority of the sweets more often than not. Both he and the lady had always been perfectly fine with this arrangement, although Sharon frequently tried to encourage him to cut back on his sugar intake “for his health”.

The kids - that was, Oz, Alice, and Gilbert - were fussing with each other nearby, as per usual. Their sheer volume and energy always astounded him, the way they ran around and argued (mostly Alice and Gil) and laughed (mostly Oz, sometimes Alice) as if they didn’t carry on with it near constantly.

Setting the empty cup on his saucer, Break reached to a plate of cookies and swiped one at random, snapping off half and chewing it placidly. It was the shortbread kind with a spot of jam in the top; not bad. It was hard to make a cookie that he wouldn’t eat, though.

He faced the direction where Alice was accusing Gil of something-or-other, listening them squabble. Really, Gil should be too old for this sort of thing by now. And yet he had always clung to the past, to his childish nature, so Break supposed if he still hadn’t grown up, he would probably just stay this way. Ah, well. Not like he could talk. He had been quite similar at that age, though not as loud. Or as likely to burst into tears at the slightest provocation.

He slipped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, continuing to “watch” them for lack of other available activities. There were still things he was learning about blindness, and one of them was that with nothing to look at, one can get terribly bored. To tell the truth, Break wasn’t really even sure why he bothered to face their direction at all; it wasn’t as if they didn’t all know already he couldn’t see. Perhaps it was just a habit carried over from the days when his eye still functioned.

Plucking another small cookie from the table, he popped it whole into his mouth, crunching thoughtfully. It was peanut butter. Also not bad, but he preferred fruity tastes more. Still, again, he could hardly be called picky in regards to sweets.

Yes, by now, this lot knew quite a lot more than anyone else about Break and his sizable collection of secrets. Obviously there would be things he would never tell, that they would never understand, but he felt far more known than he had ever expected to be. And he felt far more at peace with this idea than he ever thought, as well. One minute he had been collapsing on a cold floor, or reuniting a pair of brothers, or pulling a child from Abyss, and the next minute he somehow found himself invested. Almost maddening, how these things managed to happen. It certainly wasn’t on purpose.

It didn’t all go in one direction, either. Break knew these people better than anyone at this point. Sharon and her refined grace, which hid a childlike fascination with romantic ideals and a fierce desire to better herself. Gil with his endless devotion and selflessness and depth of emotion. Alice and her courage and resolve in the face of uncertainty. And Oz, little Oz, still smiling but finally putting the pieces of his neglected heart back together after all this time. It seemed fair, then, that they had traded so many secrets. An equal exchange of information, as he would have put it back when he wasn’t nearly as attached.

And so, as the sun warmed him, he felt quite at peace. Even as Gil and Alice bickered, and Sharon and Oz laughed at their antics, and his nearly sightless eye left him more vulnerable than ever. Break was at home, here, in the company of these people.

He hoped, in the quiet part of his mind untouched by his incessant restlessness, that this feeling would last a while longer.

————————

“Oh...” 

Oz heard a soft exclamation from the table and glanced over. Sharon had her hand raised to her lips in a refined gesture of surprise as she looked at her tablemate.

There, arms crossed, slumped ever so slightly, looking more relaxed than Oz had ever seen him, was a sleeping Break. And he surely was asleep this time, if the soft breaths and calm, untroubled face were to be taken at face value. Emily was leaning dangerously on his shoulder, threatening to topple to the floor, but her owner seemed unaware of her predicament as he slumbered on.

Sharon gently rescued Emily and set her on the table, not sitting her up as Break would have done but merely leaving her to lie facedown. Break didn’t stir in the slightest. Oz wondered if he might take offence to Emily’s treatment when he awoke.

Alice, who had paused when Sharon spoke, eyed the clown dubiously. “Hmph,” she finally grunted, and promptly continued needling Gil as if nothing had happened. Gil, who seemed to have wanted to say something, was interrupted from whatever train if thought he’d had and dragged back into the argument, their sleeping comrade forgotten.

Oz looked back at Break, thinking back to what he’d said a while back, about the peace and quiet he never seemed to find. He smiled gently and returned his attention to his friends.

Rest well, Break.

**Author's Note:**

> based on a bit of trivia in the second caucus race novel. guy almost never lets his guard down enough for people to catch him napping. it’s a rare sight. dude needs some serious relaxation time
> 
> ths is my first time working with this 5+1 thing, but i kinda like it ngl. it’s good and nonlinear
> 
> also idk how the rating system works lol. or children. is reading about booze suitable for kids? don’t ask me


End file.
